The Elven Chase
by themodernteen
Summary: Legolas risks his life & separates from the company to lead a pack of Orc scouts away from the sleeping Fellowship's location on his nightly watch. When the company awakens to find their Elf friend gone, they are adamant on rescuing him. An injured, weary Legolas must fight to survive on the run and leave clues in hopes that the rest will find him before the Orcs. (Legolas whump!)
1. Chapter 1

**Welcome to my new story! As an avid LOTR, Hobbit, and Tolkien fan, it's about time I wrote a fanfiction about it! Set in The Lord of the Rings: Fellowship of the Ring. None of the characters or content belong to me. Enjoy!**

The dark sky twinkled with beautiful stars as a waning moon illuminated the night. The sturdy trees ruffled in the slight breeze, sending a chill through the air. All was quiet except for the sounds of nocturnal creatures, the shuddering leaves, and the ripple of a nearby stream.

Below the canopy of green, The Fellowship all rested after an arduous day of travel. They were huddled together by a dying fire, allowing their bodies to rest for their continuing journey. All were asleep, huddled together in a loose circle as the last of the fire's warmth waned.

All but one.

Legolas Greenleaf of the Mirkwood Realm stood guard, just as nights previous. As an Elf, his body did not crave sleep as the others. Should Elves grow weary, they could rest even as they walked. He felt lithe, agile, and prepared to continue, but he understood the necessity of sleep for the remainder of the company.

He was appointed as their watchful guardian as the traveling members earned their much needed rest. His Elvish hearing and sight could sense an attack much sooner than the others. He stood watch, alert for any oncoming threats. His trusty bow was notched in his pale fingers, ready for aim. He examined his many charges, making sure all were well as he continued his watch.

Frodo, Sam, Pip, and Merry were huddled together in a heap of blankets and cloaks. The four hobbits kept close for warmth, their curly haiir poking out in all directions. Pip and Merry snored loudly, and Legolas found it a shock they didn't wake the whole forest. Sam was barely visible under the pile. Frodo, however, was turned to his side, away from the others. Legolas' tuned ears sensed the hobbit's breathing seemed uneasy and erratic, most likely due to his burden as The Ringbearer. Legolas often wondered if Frodo Baggins was suited to fulfill his destiny as The Ring's keeper. His strength was remarkable for a half-ling in possession of such dark power. He knew of The Ring's corruption, and was surprised that it hadn't claimed Frodo thus far. Gandalf seemed confident Frodo could manage the duty, and Legolas trusted the wizard's decision.

Gandalf rested against a large tree trunk. His head hung against his chest, his hat shrouding his face in shadows. The wizard's staff lay across his lap, ready for use in case of trouble. Legolas could hear his deep breaths as he slept. He seemed undisturbed, though strained.

Gimli the Dwarf was creating quite a racket in his slumber. Legolas rolled his eyes, slightly amused as he spotted his ally sprawled across the grass, snoring loudly, with one hand on his axe. His tangly red hair made Legolas' skin crawl. How could dwarves allow themselves to resort to such a condition? Elves prided themselves on their appearance and physical mannerisms. They were to present themselves to the upmost perfection. Obviously, dwarves didn't care for Elvish customs with their unruly manes and beards.

The two men of the journey, Boromir and Aragorn, slept close to one another. Each shared a tree trunk, though their backs were turned away from one another. Legolas understood the complexity of their relationship. Aragorn was the rightful ruler of Gondor's kingdom, and Boromir was the son of Gondor's Steward. Aragorn was more familiar with the company, while Boromir was the outcast. Legolas could attest to his skills as a warrior, but was still deciding upon his character. It was plain to them all from Elrond's Council that Boromir was weak against The Ring's dark power. It evoked the human greed within, urging him to take The Ring for Gondor's use. He noticed Aragorn and Gandalf keep a close eye upon the Gondorian.

Boromor slept on his back, his arms crossed against his chest. His weapon lay at his side, like any experienced warrior who had seen battle. He was careful, meticulous, and observant. Legolas often saw the Gondorian's eyes study each of the company in turn, like he was weighing their attributes for battle. The Elf noticed Boromir's eyes linger on him more than the others. Each of them knew the fighting capabilities of Elves, and Boromir would be a fool to deny Legolas' capability due to his experience.

Aragorn slept with his arms crossed, his black clothing shielding his lengthy sword. Legolas had known Aragorn for quite some time, and knew that he was a deadly enemy should he be armed with his sword. Despite his long years, Aragorn seemed at peace in his sleep. His breathing was even and his face seemed to reflect an innocence. Legolas knew Aragorn had suffered loss, death, injury, and heartbreak. He knew Aragorn rejected his cursed lineage, yet he still fought for righteousness and good. The Elf was proud to have him at his side along their journey.

Once he was assured they were alright, Legolas silently crouched to the floor. He placed his bow on the grass and examined the dwindling arrows that remained in his quiver. As the moon continued to rise and The Fellowship continued to rest, Legolas fashioned himself new arrows with nearby resources. His quiver felt heavy again, to his liking. He stood once more, resuming his position as guardian. His Elvish eyes scanned the hilltops for moving figures and the night sky for any airborne attackers.

The gentle sound of the nearby stream called to him. Legolas often patrolled the perimeter of their camp for any lurking enemies, though he remained a close distance to assist the company should a threat occur. The Elf silently weaved his way across the grass to the edge of the treeline. He looked up at the sky, feeling the moonlight on his skin. The sound of the stream was welcoming to him, it reminded Legolas of his home in Mirkwood prior to the orcs and spiders that infested the once beautiful forest.

A rustle from behind reached his ears.

He reacted, quick as lightning. In a matter of seconds, Legolas notched an arrow to his bow and turned to face the intruder.

The lethal point of his arrow was mere inches away from Boromir's face. The Gondorian held up his hands in surrender, taking a precautious step back from the startled and armed Elf. Legolas silently scolded himself for allowing the man to approach him without notice. He lowered his bow, blue eyes stone cold. Boromir gulped warily, eyeing the quick Elf's weapon.

"At ease, Legolas," Boromir assured, "I mean you no harm."

"I mistook you for an intruder," Legolas responded curtly, walking towards the edge of the stream, "One second more and I would have allowed my arrow to fly."

"And I would be dead," Boromir called after him.

Legolas stopped, jaw clenched. He felt guilt rise in his chest for failing to hear Boromir's approach and for nearly murdering his companion.

"I apologize for my careless mistake," Legolas dipped his head in admission.

"It is I who should apologize," Boromir raised a hand, "I should not have startled you upon your watch."

Legolas nodded, "You should be resting. A long day of travel awaits come sunrise, you will need your strength."

"I often find myself victim to sleepless nights," The Gondorian sighed, "I noticed your absence and ventured to search for you should you have encountered any trouble."

At that, Legolas laughed lightly. It was like birdsong, "You needn't worry, my friend, trouble shall not befall our company as long as I remain alert on guard. I assure you."

Boromir dipped his head, "We are all most grateful. You have proved yourself a beneficial ally."

Legolas received the compliment with silence. He spoke after a moment, "I must return to the camp, I have left it idle for too long."

Legolas took a step forward, but Boromir blocked his path. The Elf's jaw clenched as he eyed the Gondorian warily.

"Legolas, you understand the power of The Ring more than most, is that not correct?"

"How do you mean?"

"You have encountered it before, sixty years ago. Bilbo, Frodo's uncle, brought the ring to Mirkwood, into your father, King Thranduil's, kingdom. Surely, you recognize its power."

"I do not care for this nonsense," Legolas stepped to the side, continuing forward, "we must return to the camp. Our friends are unguarded."

"Legolas-"

"Enough of this, Boromir!" Legolas stopped, eyes glaring at the hasty Gondorian, "My only concern with the ring is that it be destroyed. As should yours."

"I only mean to protect Middle Earth from Sauron's wrath!" Boromir shouted after him, an angry edge to his tone, "Do you really believe Frodo will not succumb to the darkness? The hobbit even doubts himself!"

"Frodo is the Ringbearer, and we must protect and assist him upon his journey. That is the role I play in this quest, Boromir, I do not crave the ring's power like mankind," the Elf responded coldly.

"Gondor should possess the ring," Boromir argued, "we are the strongest civilization belonging to man. We may earn the opportunity to defeat Sauron."

"And The Fellowship?"

"Is no match for Sauron's power," Boromir shook his head. Legolas clenched his fists, but looked to the grass, "You are a strong, capable warrior, Legolas, Gondor would be grateful to have you fighting by our side. Let us relieve Frodo of his burden. We shall take the ring now and make haste to Gondor by evening of the second day."

The Elf scoffed, "Lord Elrond convened a council to unite our kins, not divide us further. I have sworn an oath to stand by Frodo Baggins' side and assist him in destroying this cursed ring at all costs. We all have. Your wild imaginings have no place in our company, Boromir, nor in my liking. Now, let us return to our camp to The Fellowship."

Legolas turned to the trees and marched on. He did not bother to turn to see ensure Boromir was following. He heard the Gondorian's footsteps after just a few moments.

The Elf was astonished at how fervent the man seemed at stealing the ring and abandoning the company. Why was he chosen to assist them? What did Boromir provide other than malevolent suspicions-

Legolas heard Boromir's painful grunt behind him along with a thud in the grass. His skilled fingers reached for an arrow in his quiver and placed it on his bow. He spun around expertly, his arrow aimed for an enemy threat. A few paces behind, he saw Boromir lying facedown in the dirt. Blood ran from a wound on his head. He must have been struck unconscious from behind.

Towering over the Gondorian was a snarling Warg and an Orc riding atop it. It had not spotted Legolas yet. The lithe Elf silently sprinted to the nearest tree and climbed the trunk with ease. His bow was slung over his shoulder once more as he scouted the nearby surroundings for more Wargs or Orcs. If Legolas were to shoot this Orc, others may be alerted and they would be outmatched. He needed to ensure this one was alone before attacking.

Sure enough, the Orc was a scout. It was sent from a larger pack to investigate the nearby roads. The Warg sniffed Boromir's body, eager to sink its teeth in. The Orc pulled back on its harness, preventing the snapping jaws from injuring the unconscious Boromir further. In the distance, Legolas heard the howls of Wargs getting closer.

The Orc leapt down from its steed and approached the Gondorian, axe raised. It kicked him to his back, examining him to see if he was still alive.

It smiled with a hiss when it learned the man was still breathing, " _Why, what a tasty treat for me! How I've missed the taste of man flesh!"_

The Orc raised its axe high, prepared to bring it down to deliver the killing blow. The Warg snarled and growled.

Two arrows flew. One through the Warg's head, the other through the Orc's black heart. The Orc fell to its knees, staring at the arrow through its chest with a howl. It bellowed in its black tongue as Legolas released another arrow to the Orc's head. Both creatures fell to the grass, dead.

However, the howls of the Orc alerted nearby scouts. Legolas could heard the snarling Wargs make way to their direction. They would surely catch his and Boromir's scent in a few moments should he not act.

Legolas nimbly landed on his lithe legs from the tree top. He ran to Boromir's side, placing a hand against his heart. He felt it beat, much to his relief.

The growling Wargs were approaching.

The Elf had to react quickly.

If he stayed and fought, the Wargs would outnumber him and would surely find and kill Boromir and the rest of the company. There was no time to reach the sleeping Fellowship, awaken them, and flee in time or the Wargs would catch them. He knew he had to get Boromir to safety and lure the Wargs away from the others. They were scouts, not a pack. If he led them away now, then they'd never find the company. The Elf could run quickly and for a long while, it would throw them off from their route.

The Wargs crossed the treeline. They were approaching the stream.

Legolas grabbed Boromir's arms and began to drag him to the nearest tree. He hoisted the limp man over his shoulder and climbed the bark, his fingers digging in as the Elf had to support the weight of them both.

The Wargs were even closer now, crossing the stream.

Legolas was satisfied he climbed high enough so Boromir was out of harm's way and his scent would not reach the Wargs. He was panting from the effort as the climb proved slightly difficult, but he gingerly placed the man securely between two branches. He produced a length of twine from his belt and wrapped it around the Gondorian's waist and tree trunk so he would not fall. Once he felt Boromir was safe, he sighed once and looked at this companion. There was no time to treat the wound, and he hoped it was not serious enough to cause severe damage.

The Wargs were breaking into their vicinity. Their howls and snarls echoed through the night. They'd soon find the dead Orc and Warg. Legolas left Boromir and jumped to the grass once more, just in time as the first Warg leapt into the clearing. It stopped, eyes narrowed hungrily as it spotted Legolas. The Orc sitting atop it screamed maliciously as three more Wargs and Orc riders joined it. More were on their way.

" _An Elf!"_ the middle Orc shouted, " _We shall feast upon your bones!"_

"Let your black eyes settle upon your fallen kin," Legolas growled, gesturing to the dead Orc and Warg in between them, "and let it be known that you shall share a similar fate if you decide to pursue me further!"

The Wargs howled and growled further at the sight of their dead member. At this, the Orc let loose a guttural yell and charged forward towards Legolas. The Elf sprinted through the trees as a dozen of Warg and Orc scouts chased behind him.

Boromir remained unconscious in the trees.

The Fellowship lay asleep a little ways off.

Neither knew that their Elf friend was running for his life to a destination unknown.

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	2. Chapter 2

**Here's the next chapter! Enjoy!**

"Aragorn! Aragorn!"

The Ranger felt hands shaking his shoulders. He was abruptly pulled from his deep slumber, his hand instinctively reaching for the the sword hidden underneath his cloak. His blue eyes opened to see Merry desperately at his side. His face was filled with anguish, eyes wide with worry.

"Merry?" Aragorn cleared his throat as he sat upright, "What is the matter?"

"Boromir and Legolas," he spoke quickly, frantically, "They are missing!"

Dread washed over him, "What?" he looked around. The rest of The Fellowship was awake and searching. Sure enough, the Boromir's bedding next to him was empty and the Elf was nowhere to be seen.

Aragorn shot to his feet and turned in circles, trying to observe as much as possible as quickly as he could. Frodo, Sam, Pip, and Merry were calling the names of their missing companions to the trees. They didn't leave the camp, not wanting to venture further in fear of what they'd find. Gimli was joining their efforts, silently raging. His fist clenching his axe was white with tension. Aragorn knew he was worried, but he was doing his best to conceal it.

Gandalf saw Aragorn was awake and quickly approached.

"Gandalf," Aragorn spoke sternly, "What do you know?"

"I awoke near dawn to find Legolas and Boromir were missing from our camp. The sun was just rising, and I swiftly checked out perimeter," the wizard informed.

"And?" Aragorn pressed, "What did you find?"

"A dead Warg and an Orc scout."

Aragorn shook his head, "This could have been coincidental, they may have-"

"Legolas' arrows were what struck them. He engaged with them."

"And now he's missing," Aragorn felt a tightness in his chest, "Boromir?"

"No sign," Gandalf sighed, "it is as if they vanished."

Aragorn grit his teeth and clenched his fists, "We must find them at all costs," he shouted to the rest of the group, "Pip, Merry, and Gimli! Search the treeline until the stream! Frodo and Gandalf will search the clearing until the trees of the West! Sam and myself will make haste to the cliff edge!"

The Fellowship looked to Aragorn with relief now that they had a heading.

"We search until we recover our lost companions!"

Gimli wielded his axe, "Come, hobbits!" Pip and Merry ran after the determined Dwarf. Frodo and Gandalf made way into the trees, and Sam was left with Aragorn.

The Ranger placed a hand on the hobbit's shoulder, "Come, Sam, we will find them."

Sam the Hobbit was a hero in his own like. He was inherently good, not a single evil bone in his body. Aragorn was thankful for his inclusion in the company, he kept Frodo grounded when he struggled.

"Do you really think so?" Sam wrung his hands as he and Aragorn marched through the trees.

"We cannot think otherwise," Aragorn sighed, and searched the trees, "Legolas!" he called, "Boromir!"

Pip, Merry, and Gimli continued the shouts of their friends' names as they made way through the trees to the stream.

"Legolas!" Merry called.

"Boromir!" Pip continued.

Gimli's dwarf eyes scanned the trees, searching for the lithe Elf and the skilled Gondorian. The hobbits were at his side, he could hear them whisper to themselves.

"Do...do you think we will find them, Pip?"

"I hope so, Merry…"

"We will," Gimli answered confidently, though he had trouble convincing himself of that answer. He hoped so.

They continued their trek through the trees, the sound of the stream growing louder as they neared. Gimli did not take that for a good omen.

Suddenly, Merry's keen hobbit eyes spotted a discovery.

"Look!" he ran forward a few paces and kneeled in the grass.

Gimli and Pip raced after him. They fanned to his sides and examined the forest floor.

Blood.

Gimli felt his anger rise. It could be Legolas' or Boromir's. It was the first clue they had discovered, and it was a harbinger for evil.

"Who's blood could it be?" Pip gulped, "Boromir or Legolas?"

"Or something else?" Merry offered.

Their unanswered questions hounded Gimli and his rage burst. With a frustrated yell, the strong, powerful dwarf swung his axe into the nearest trunk. Wood splintered as the whole tree shook. Leaves fluttered to the ground, showering the three in pines.

The hobbits dared not utter a word as the dwarf calmed himself, breathing heavily. His axe was buried deep into the tree, nearly halfway into the trunk.

It was a few moments later that a groan reached their eyes.

The three froze, neither of them moving a muscle.

"Was that…?" Merry trailed off.

They all waited, listening intently.

Another groan. It sounded from above them.

Pip, Merry, and Gimli turned their heads towards the sky.

The sight that met them was one they would never have expected.

" _Aragorn!"_ Gimli bellowed.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o

Legolas had been running for longer than he had his entire life.

Even for an Elf, his energy reserves were draining. He needed rest, but there was no chance he'd earn it soon.

The snarling Wargs and the cursing Orcs were still chasing after him tirelessly. When Wargs had caught scent of prey, they would not rest until they had caught it. Legolas was their target.

As an Elf, he was lithe and nimble. He could scale boulders and trek the land much easier than the pursuing creatures, but there were dozens of them and one of him. His breath was coming fast, his legs aching.

The sun was beginning to rise, and he was trapped in the middle of a grassy valley. There were no trees for him to climb, not high enough boulders to seek shelter, no caves to hide in, and no nearby villages for him to retreat to. Legolas would have to keep running for now.

Once or twice, he was able to notch and arrow and slow down just slightly to release. He was successful in killing two Wargs and an Orc. The reward was not worth the risk when a Warg snapping jaws nearly caught him due to his slowing pace. So, far now he ran. When he looked behind him, there were an increasing number of Wargs joining the chase.

From a few of the evil creatures to nearly two dozen. There was no chance he could fight them all alone. He was just glad that The Fellowship was safe for now.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o

" _Aragorn!"_

The Ranger heard Gimli's shout echo through the trees. With Sam by his side, he sprinted through the woods to find the rest of the search party.

"Gimli!" he called back, "Where are you? Gimli!"

The hobbit and man burst through the bushes to find Pip, Merry, and Gimli standing at the base of a large tree trunk. Gimli's axe was buried into the bark, but they seemed unconcerned.

"What has happened?" Aragorn panted for breath as Gandalf and Frodo appeared through the brush in the opposite direction. They had heard Gimli's cries as well.

"We found something," Merry gulped nervously.

"And?" Aragorn pressed impatiently, "What have you found?"

"Ahem," Gandalf cleared his throat and Aragorn looked to him. The wizard's head was tilted up, looking skyward. Frodo and Sam followed his gaze, their eyes wide. Aragorn followed next and his jaw dropped.

High in the branches, tied around the trunk, was an injured, half-conscious Boromir. He looked limp and listless, the only reason he had not fallen from the tree was due to that tightly bound rope.

"Boromir!" Pip shouted, "Can you hear us?!"

The Gondorian was too high up to hear. If he responded, they did not receive a reply.

"Someone must climb up there," Frodo said urgently.

"That is dangerous, little hobbit!" Gimli shook his head, "None of our company could make that climb other than-"

The dwarf trailed off.

The only other person who could make that climb was Legolas, and he was nowhere to be found.

"I'll go!" Sam stepped forward, "Hobbits have better agility for tree climbing, I can volunteer."

"The branches seem to0 sparse, Samwise," Gandalf shook his head, "it would prove too difficult, even for a half-ling."

"I can help," Frodo stepped forward.

"Me too," Pip added.

"And me!" Merry concluded.

Gandalf and Aragorn exchanged glances, then looked up at Boromir.

In a few moments, the four hobbits were climbing the large trunk. Gimli, Gandalf, and Aragorn were huddled around the bottom, ready to catch the hobbits in case they slipped.

"Be gentle!" Gandalf called, "Slow and steady!"

Pip and Merry climbed first, Frodo and Sam following behind. They pulled themselves up from branch to branch, assisting one another with far limbs. Aragorn's heart clenched the entire time, worried one of the halflings might misstep and plunder to the floor far below. Thankfully, none of them did. They reached Boromir high in the branches and gently untied him from the trunk. Two by two, they lowered themselves, Boromir trying to help in his weakened state.

"That is it, hobbits!" Gimli shouted encouragingly, "Easy does it!"

Pip and Merry held his arms, while Frodo and Sam took his legs. They carefully took each branch, until Boromir was low enough for Gandalf and Aragorn to relieve the hobbits and lay him on the grass. The halflings jumped down, panting and sweating, but pleased with their work.

"Well done," Aragorn smiled and dipped his head in thanks.

Gimli clapped Sam on the shoulder proudly, sending him stumbling forward.

All attention was turned to Boromir who was groaning as he struggled to sit upright.

"Easy," Gandalf warned the Gondorian, "you have suffered quite a blow."

Boromir's hand clumsily reached for the wound on his skull.

"Boromir, are you able to speak?" Aragorn asked gently.

"Y-yes," he spoke in a hoarse voice after a few moments.

"What happened to you?" Merry gulped, looking around in worry, "Who did this to you?"

"I-I do not know," Boromir shook his head, "I was struck from behind...I did not catch sight of my attacker."

"And Legolas?" Gimli pressed, "Was he struck too?"

"Legolas was a few paces ahead of me," Boromir shook his head wearily, "I saw him turn...his arrow notched and ready to shoot. I only remember some movement and being carried," his dull eyes looked upwards towards the tree.

"Who did this to you?" Gimli raised his axe, "I will sever him limb from limb!"

"An Orc battalion nearing from the East," Gandalf spoke silently. The group turned to him, shocked and fearful expressions on their faces, "I spotted a dead Orc and Warg near the edge of our camp earlier this morning. Legolas' arrows had struck them. It seems our Legolas was attempting to divert scouting Wargs from our company's location."

"Then...where is he now?" Pip spoke in a small voice.

"One only knows," Gandalf closed his eyes and shook his head, "but we can only hope that he has survived."

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	3. Chapter 3

**Sorry for the delay! Here is the next chapter, enjoy! More excitement to come!**

Legolas panted, a slight sheen of sweat on his pale skin as he finally found a rocky patch in the hills. He was seeking refuge for a few short moments as he hid behind a boulder. He knew it would conceal his form from sight, but the Wargs would soon catch his scent. He did not have long, and he winced as the pain of his wound caught up with him.

While Legolas was unleashing another bout of arrows to slay more of his pursuants, an Orc's dagger caught him off guard. He was able to sense the incoming weapon to dodge the approaching blade, but the dagger's point still tore through his tunic and the skin of his bowman's arm. Legolas had no time to address his wound as the murderous Orcs and Wargs were closing in. He continued his sprint across the valley.

Now, hiding behind these boulders, was his only rest for the last countless hours of running. He was grateful for the shelter it provided, and even more so that the Fellowship was safe from harm's way. He knew that Aragorn would insist upon finding him. The Ranger was an excellent would not be difficult considering the stench of Orcs and Wargs painted across the valley.

He glanced down at his arm, blood slowly staining through his dark tunic. The Elf knew the wound required proper care, but he was out of time and unable to defend himself. The only option that presented itself was outsmarting his pursuers until he could find resourceful help. The vicious growls and barks grew near, and Legolas pressed himself against the boulder stealthily. He eyed the the mountain before him, jagged rocks and boulders cross-crossing across its surface. He'd have to climb it, he'd have to find shelter behind the sharp points and outrun his assailaints.

Legolas inahled deeply then sprinted to the mountain's base.

0o0o0o0o0o0o

"We will not give up hope," Aragorn had said as the entire company agreed to search for their missing companion, "Legolas has speed and agility, he can outlast these hellish Orcs and Wargs longer than any mortal."

"Agreed," Gandalf dipped his head, "Let us search! Legolas is in need of our assistance!"

These encouraging words were spoken hours ago. Now, the sun was setting as the Fellowship had found nothing in their search. The only evidence they possessed was a wounded Boromir and an Orc and Warg carcass. Aragorn was inwardly seething with frustration as he went tearing through the forest and trees, calling the missing Elf's name to no avail.

Gimli and Sam were by Boromir's side, observing his condition and treating his head wound as he tried to recount the events from the prior evening that miraculously saved his life. Yet, all he could mutter was that he was attack from behind and vaguely remembered being carried by Legolas into the trees for safety.

"Gandalf!" Aragorn whispered to him with anger, "We cannot delay this any longer! If Legolas is still alive, he cannot outrun these pursuers much further!"

Gandalf dipped his head, "Aragorn...I regret to say that we must come to the conclusion that our Elf companion may not have survived this long."

The Ranger took a surprised step back, "What are you saying, Gandalf? That Legolas could be dead already?"

Frodo shook his head sadly, "It has nearly been a day with no sign of him, Aragorn."

"With a pack of Orcs and Wargs on pursuing him," Merry muttered.

"That's at least two dozen," Pip looked to the ground.

"You see," Gandalf placed a consoling hand on a staggering Aragorn's shoulder, "I believe you are the only one refusing to accept that Legolas Greenleaf may not have survived. We must move on, Aragorn, we have a long journey yet. It grieves me to think we have lost such a kind, noble soul amongst our ranks, but we have all of Middle Earth to defend by traveling to Mordor and destroying Sauron's cursed ring."

Aragorn sighed, trying to hold back the choking knot within his chest. Legolas, his old friend whom he had shared many pleasant memories and adventures with, was lost to never return.

"No," a voice said firmly from within their ranks. All heads turned to see Gimli the Dwarf wield his ax defiantly, "No, we will not give up our search. We keep hunting for Legolas until we find those Orc fiends and tear their bones from their limbs!"

"Gimli," Aragorn shook his head, resting against a tree for support, "He is lost, there is little hope."

"Ay, but there still _is_ hope!" he shouted, "If Legolas were in our position and one of us was lost, he would not rest until we were found! I have no intention of abandoning our search for the Elf, and neither should you all! Come, let us continue! Make haste, we will find our missing companion, even if we must walk from the edges of Mirkwood Forest to the last Watchtower of The Kingdom of Gondor!"

"Ay!" Sam stood up, "We must find Legolas!"

"I'll help!" Merry stepped forward.

"And me!" Frodo and Pip followed.

Aragorn stood straight and shook his head to rid himself of past thoughts. He walked towards the Dwarf and kneeled, "Gimli, Son of Gloin, I bow to your courage and inspiring words. You are correct, we must search for Legolas no matter the consequences. I will join you."

Boromir struggled to his feet, his head wound still bleeding, but he gripped the tree trunk for support, "I will follow you, Gimli, until we retrieve Legolas and onwards. He saved my life, and I don't intend to leave him defenseless because of it."

Gandalf nodded approvingly, a small smile at his lips, "Master Dwarf, I dare say that you are the bravest of us all. It is futile to search these woods any longer. The Orc pack and Legolas must have moved on. Let us travel to the valley beyond and hope to discover a trail leading to our missing friend."

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	4. Chapter 4

**Next chapter, here we are!**

"Here! I have found something!" those relieving words from Merry reached Gimli's ears, and he went sprinting as fast as his Dwarf legs could carry him. The others surrounded the hobbit as he crouched in the grass, observing a clue left behind by the archer.

"His Elvish pendant," Aragorn picked the object up from the grass. It was in the shape of a green leaf, reminiscient of his surname, "He must have left it behind as a clue."

"Then we are heading in the right direction," Frodo smiled, "Legolas passed through here."

"Ay," Gandalf was kneeling in the grass a few feet away. His fingers grazed over the blades, and they came up with red blood, "They did."

"Blood?" Sam gasped.

"Is it Legolas?" Boromir uttered.

Gandalf brought his fingers to his nose and sniffed lightly. After a tense moment, he shook his head, "I don't believe so. It reeks of Orc blood."

"Then he's not running without a fight," Pip nodded, "that's good! He may survive just yet!"

"Legolas will survive," Gimli said confidently, "He must!"

"Of course," Aragorn nodded, careful with his words, "let us continue in this direction. We have passed the forest into the open valleys. Keep vigilant for any more clues Legolas may have left for us."

"For how long?" Merry wondered, "Won't Legolas be tired if he has been running all this way?"

Aragorn's face darkened, but Gandalf stepped forward, "Our Elvish companion is unlike the rest of us, he can survive greater lengths than any of us dare endure." Though, the same thought had crossed Gandalf's mind. If Legolas was being chased by an Orc pack for this long, even the Elf was bound to grow weary.

"Let us continue!" Boromir spoke firmly, "Onwards to the valley. As Aragorn said, we must stay alert."

The Fellowship's excitement over their find diminished as they continued to walk through the open valley of dried grass and weeds, not a soul in sight.

0o0o0o0o0o0o

Legolas had to stop, despite his riled nerves warning him not to. The wound on his arm was stinging painfully and he knew he had to treat it to avoid worsening infection. The sky was growing darker, though his Elvish eyes could see sharply in the dark. He had been climbing this mountain of boulders for hours now, willing his aching legs to carry him farther up. The Wargs still persisted, not daunted by the sharp turns and rocky surface of their climb. The Orcs whipped their hellish steeds and the Wargs were eager for his blood.

Legolas pressed his back against a boulder, instinctively reaching back for an arrow to launch. The moment he stretched his bowman's arm, he recoiled with pain. He was defenseless with his dominant hand, and he had little accuracy with the other. If he were to fire an arrow, he would miss and reveal his hiding location.

Instead, Legolas ripped a cloth from his tunic. He finally peeled the cloth back from the skin of his arm, and his eyes widened from the amount of blood the wound produced. It was bright red and dripping down his pale skin freely. Legolas had known this nonstop flow had continued for hours, and he was experiencing the signs of blood loss. Because he was an Elf, his body was able to prolongue the effects, but after so many long hours, even he was not immune. His breaths came with more difficulty, his vision felt slightly unfocused at the edges, and his wounded limb was feeling cold and numb.

Legolas had not sustained many major injuries to be so cautious. Elves, after all, were mortal. He had always been careful, and in this instance his caution had betrayed him.

He could hear the snarling breaths of the Wargs approaching quickly. Legolas tied the torn fabric of his tunic around his wound. He bit his lip to stop his cry of pain. That was unexpected. He usually did not experience pain.

He stopped halfway, still trying to adjust to this rare sensation. The Wargs were nearing, and he had to tend to his wound before he could depart again. Legolas whispered words of encouragement to himself in his native tongue, eyes closed, willing himself to finish the task.

Without hesitation, he tightly wrapped the cloth across the deep wound; however, he could not hold back his cry of pain. He slapped a hand over his mouth, willing and wishing that the Wargs did not hear.

That, of course, was not to be his fate.

All was silent for just a moment, before a Warg came jumping over the rock he was seeking shelter behind and faced him with its fangs gleaming for his flesh.

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	5. Chapter 5

**Thanks for keeping up with the story! Enjoy the new update!**

Aragorn kneeled in the dry grass, observing a footprint of a Warg. It was only a few hours old, they were gaining upon the Orc scout party pursuing Legolas.

"We are gaining on them!" he announced, "this print is only a few hours old, just before sunrise, I wager."

"Then we must keep moving," Boromir said stoicly. Despite his injury, he was adamant on continuing their search.

"Where do the tracks lead?" Pip asked as he stopped at Aragorn's side.

"West," he pointed in the direction, "I believe."

"Is there anywhere he could have hidden?" Merry questioned, "A sanctuary?"

"No village or dwellings of any kind," Gandalf shook his head, "This valley has little population except for the odd traveler or caravan whom mainly cross this path in the warmer months."

"Aye," Gimli nodded glumly, "unless the Elf has reached the Jagged Crossing, then there is no safe place for him to hide."

"Jagged Crossing?" Frodo gulped nervously, "That does not sound inviting."

"It is a stretch of land at the base of a small mountain," Gandalf explained, "though it is rather treacherous due to the extensive patch of boulders that prevent crossing. Only the most able can endure the dangers of it."

"If anyone can do it, Legolas can!" Sam tried to cheer them up, "Come on, let us keep moving!"

And so the company travelled on towards the Jagged Crossing to retrieve their lost friend.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o

The snarling Warg landed right before the startled Elf.

Legolas' eyes widened, and it was only due to his Elvish reflexes that he was able to dodge most of the attack.

 _Most_ of the attack.

The fangs of the ferocious Warg pierced the right side of his torso as he attempted to swerve to the left. The Orc riding the vicious beast smiled gleefully as Legolas cried in pain and fell to the rocky floor. He was vulnerable on his back, blue eyes wide in shock as his pale palm calm away from his tunic slick with blood. Not only was his arm injured, but this new wound on his torso was of much more serious concern.

" _I have caught you,"_ the Orc growled with a smile as the Warg slowly approached its prey, " _You wretched Elf! Wait until my brothers learn of my discovery!"_

"N-No!" Legolas panted, trying to back up quickly from his pursuers, "Stay back!"

" _Is this fear I sense?"_ the Orc laughed tauntingly, " _A mighty Elf fearful at my feet!"_

"I warn you!" Legolas was growing weary, "I hold a respectable position in the Mirkwood kingdom! Should King Thranduil learn of your actions, he will see your forces vanquished!"

" _Respectable position?"_ the Orc's eyes widened, " _Why, you cannot be the traveling Prince of Mirkwood, King Thranduil's very kin!"_

Legolas felt his chest tighten, his secret revealed. He did not wish for this information to be exposed. Now, he was seen as a prize to these creatures.

" _It is!"_ the Orc shouted, " _Brothers! Come! Look at my spoils!"_

Legolas seized this opportunity. His free hand found a sharp rock beside him. He clenched it with his uninjured hand and threw it with all his might. The rock met its mark, and collided with the skull of the Orc with a _slosh!_

The Orc fell limp to the floor, bleeding and broken.

The now riderless Warg was thoroughly confused, turning its great head from side to side looking for its master. After a few seconds, its eyes rested on the struggling Legolas lying in the grass. With a deafening screech, it charged Legolas. The Elf waited until the beast got close enough, until he grabbed an arrow from his quiver and held it straight before him. The Warg's charge was too fast for it to stop and it barreled into the extended arrow.

The beast was dead within seconds, however it's hulky body shuddered and stilled above Legolas.

"No!" Legolas shouted, trying to clear of the area, but he was too late. The massive, heavy Warg dropped, its carcass landing on top of the Elf and pinning him to the floor.

Legolas attempted tp push the massive body off of his injured form, but he was too weak and weary to do so. He heard the howling of the Wargs and Orcs in the near distance. Blood seeped from the wound on his side, and Legolas knew he was going to lose consciousness in a few moments.

He needed to act soon.

The Elf's wounded arm was tied by the fabric of his tunic, but the more pressing injury was his side. Legolas felt spots dance across his vision, as he frantically ripped more fabric from his tunic and packed the wound to stem the flow of blood.

After a few panicked moments, Legolas could not continue. His head was spinning, his vision blurring, and his thoughts were distant. He only remembered that the wound seemed somewhat cared for and that he hoped to the heavens that the remaining Orcs and Wargs did not discover him.

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	6. Chapter 6

**Hope everyone enjoyed the last chapter, here's the next!**

Legolas awoke to a body of fur lying atop him. His wide, blue eyes tried to absorb all the information it could in a matter of seconds. Since he was last conscious, the sky had brightened. Dawn was approaching and he was still trapped under the beastly carcass of the slain Warg.

The Elf attempted to push the hulky body off of his form, but he was weak and injured. The effort already made the wound on his arm sting painfully. He let out a small grunt of pain.

The sound of a Warg nearby made him freeze. He heard the growling animal, as it heard his painful noise. Legolas kept his mouth shut, trying in all of his power to resist another sound or movement. His eyes flitted over the dead Warg lying atop him to see a lone Warg sniffing a few paces away from his foot.

Legolas lay rigid as the riderless Warg smelled the grass, catching traces of his scent. Suddenly, Legolas was grateful for the hulky body of the dead Warg atop him as its blood masked his Elvish scent.

The wounded Elf Prince noticed that t he probbing Warg, thankfully, had suffered a wound over its left eye. The scar seemed years old, most likely from a previous fight, Therefore, it was the scoundrel of the pack. The Orcs did not deem it fit enough to ride, but its sole purpose was to hunt with its pack for food.

Legolas thanked his good fortune, as the half-blind Warg started to near. He could use the beast's disability to his advantage. It finally caught the scent of the dead Warg and quickly bounded over, sniffing the carcass as a wobbly growl started in its throat.

Wargs were pack animals, and it recognized the scene of its slain brethren.

It howled once towards the sky. The high screeching sound pierced his ears painfully, but Legolas endured. He would have to move quickly. That howl was meant to alert the others of the pack that one of their own had fallen. Legolas was expertly concealed in the beast's blindspot,

He had managed to pull the arrow from the dead beast's skull, and he wielded it in his hand expertly. In his other hand, he grabbed a sharp stone and threw it straight at the beast.

The stone collided with the Warg. The growling monster suddenly turned furious and it's head swerved to the left. Legolas was still concealed in its blindspot as the enraged beast started to frantically look in all directions to find the source.

Legolas grabbed another stone and threw it again.

The rage-filled Warg pinpointed his location and disregarded all its howling for its dead pack member. Its snapping jaws reached for the nearest object in that direction, and that was the dead Warg lying on top of the Elf. The half-blind Warg gripped the body of its dead brethren in its furious haze and began to pull and fight.

 _Success!_ Legolas thought, as he felt the crushing weight of the Warg atop him start to lighten. The Elf managed to squirm out from underneath the beast, finally feeling free air gulp into his lungs.

Before he moved forward, Legolas notched an arrow onto his bow and released. The arrow sank into the other eye of the half-blind Warg and it fell to the floor, joining its dead companion.

This action alone greatly irritated Legolas' wound. He cried out in pain and dropped his weapon, as he gripped his arm tightly trying to stop the pain. Blood soaked the tunic cloth, and he knew he had to relieve the pressure and redress the wound. He did not want to look at the wound on his abdomen yet, knowing that the pain radiating from his torso was a bad omen of the wound's condition.

The nearing howls of Wargs brought Legolas back to the present. He quickly gathered up his bow and quill and staggered over the boulders, further up the mountain.

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	7. Chapter 7

**I appreciate all of the support for this story! Enjoy the next chapter!**

"We are here," Aragorn said to himself as he crouched in the gravel, his black attire dusted white from the powdery dirt. He stared ahead of him at the daunting path ahead, as they had reached the Jagged Crossing. Sharp, jutting boulders poked from the mountainside as they stared at its summit high above.

Next to him, Frodo gulped nervously. Aragorn placed a hand on his shoulder and nodded with encouragement. The remainder of the Fellowship was equally silent, not realizing the full potential of the dangers the mountain possessed.

Gandalf stepped forward, staff in hand, "We have reached our destination," he spoke in a deep voice, "Our friend and companion Legolas is alone to fend for himself against a pack of Orcs and Wargs. We must swiftly rush to his aid."

"Aye!" Gimli wielded his axe.

Boromir continued, "Let us take the mountain," he nodded assuredly, "we have seen the Orc and Warg carcasses the Elf has left behind in his chase. He must be weary and running low on ammunition. We must march!"

"How many…," Merry gulped, "do you think there are up there, Gandalf…?"

"Too many for our Elf friend to fend off alone."

"An Orc pack may have up to two dozen or more in their ranks," Aragorn spoke, "Legolas has managed to slay six of them. The first we encountered at our original camp. The carcasses ceased after the River Valley."

"What stopped them?" Sam asked, "Was he no longer able to fight them off?"

"Perhaps," Gandalf bowed his head, "our friend has suffered an injury leaving him unable to protect himself against these creatures from Mordor any longer."

"Then we musn't dally!" Gimli growled, "Let us continue on!"

Thunder clapped in the distance, grey clouds gathered. The Fellowship began to climb the steep, treacherous path of the Jagged Crossing. Aragorn, Boromir, and Gimli took the charge. The Hobbits hobbled along in the middle as Gandalf managed the rear. They climbed the mountain with haste, desperate to find their missing friend.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o

Legolas had managed to free himself from the Warg carcass, but he was still in danger. The pursuing Wargs were closer than ever, having caught his scent and path while he lay unconscious under the beast.

He had managed to climb halfway up the mountainside. A grey sky grew darker as rain approached. Legolas had found a small, narrow cave just large enough for him to fit through to find shelter for the night. As dusk approached, he needed rest. Usually, the Elf was spry and fit enough to continue on even in the dead of night, but he was gravely injured and weary.

Once he had reached the sanctuary of the cave, Legolas dropped his bow and quill with a shaking hand. His wounded arm was trembling, blood seeping down his pale skin and dripping from his fingers. The scent of his blood was more potent, the Wargs could grasp its scent easier. He had to tend to the wound quickly.

He sat against the rocky wall of the cave, hidden in shadows. Thankfully, his Elvish eyes could see rather clearly in the dark, but even now his vision was hazy. His injuries were taking a toll on his body, dulling his senses and the immortality of the Elves.

The exhausted Elf rolled up the sleeve of his tunic, bright red blood soaking the fabric. The temporary tourniquet he wrapped around it was no longer effective, he had to clean the wound. However, he was low on supplies and remedies. He would have to keep the wound bound tightly to avoid further blood loss for now. Legolas tore an even larger, thicker cloth from his cloak. The torn clothing made his heart clench, as Elves never allowed dirty, damaged clothing. In this instance, the more pressing matter was his injury. With shaking fingers, Legolas tightly wrapped the long cloth around his arm. He had to stifle a painful groan from the excruciating pressure, and he finished tying off the knot.

The effort had left him even paler than usual, a cold sweat on his brow, and panting for breath. He was weak, weary, and losing hope. The pursuing Orc pack had provisions with them, prepared for their journey. Legolas had abandoned his company and embarked on a dangerous chase across half of Middle Earth. He had not eaten or slept in the days since he parted, and the impact of his wounds left him aching and exhausted.

Legolas eyes opened with a start, as he realized he was drifting to sleep. His body yearned for the rest, but he knew he could not until the wound on his torso was properly cared for as well. Gathering his remaining strength, the Elf lifted the cloth of his tunic to expose his pale, bleeding skin. The wound was deep, inflicted by sharp Warg teeth. The beast had managed to bite as he attempted to dodge its snapping jaws.

Legolas did not have enough cloth to wrap this wound, he needed an alternative. His glazed eyes scanned the remainder of the cave. Except for a few dry leaves and pebbles, it was empty. The Elf unhooked the cloak from around his neck and wrapped the piece around his waist. With a tight pull, Legolas tied the cloak around his torso to stem further bleeding.

This last action drained the remainder of his energy as he cried out in pain. The Elf slumped to his side, eyes closing from pain and exhaustion as he hoped no Orc, Warg, or creature find him vulnerable in his temporary sanctuary.

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	8. Chapter 8

**I appreciate all of the reviews and support of this story! Thank you to all of you amazing readers!**

The Fellowship paused before two Warg carcasses in what appeared to be a brutal fight. An Orc corpse lay limp a few feet away. The hobbits stood a distance from the beasts, still fearful that they may somehow reanimate and attack.

Gimli and Aragorn took a step forward to examine the scene. Boromir stood back with the half-lings. He looked pale and a sweat gathered on his skin, but he had not complained yet once. He had endured the long journey, despite the head injury he had suffered, as he was adamant upon finding Legolas.

Gandalf kept his staff at the ready, in case he might have to use it.

Gimli stood before Aragorn as he lightly tapped the Warg body with the tip of his axe.

"It is dead," Gimli announced, "as is the other."

Aragorn examined the carcasses, "Intersting...this Warg has suffered an injury in the past. It bears a scar over its left eye, rendering it blind."

"The Orcs must have kept it to hunt along the pack," Gandlaf commented, "but it is riderless. That explains why only a single Orc body lays here."

"And this!" Gimli said excitedly as he lifted one of the Elf's arrows. It was bent and bloodied, but it was a good omen.

"Legolas!" Merry shouted happily.

"He is still alive!" Pip joined.

Aragorn smiled, relieved that his friend was still fighting.

Gandalf nodded, pleased with Gimli's find.

"We must continue our trek," Boromir spoke, "We are nearing the half marking of the mountain."

A long, low howling echoed from the higher peaks. The company froze, rigid with fear as the deep bellowing was unmistakably that of a Warg pack. Where there was the Warg pack, there was the Orcs and their missing friend Legolas.

"They-they are here," Sam gulped, "They are close…"

"Legolas is still there," Frodo said, flustered, "we must hurry. If he reaches the summit of the mountain, he will be trapped."

"Aye," Gimli nodded, "The Elf will have no place else to run."

"Then let us climb," Aragorn did not dawdle and he started to cross the boulder-ridden path up to the peak.

As the grey clouds continued to gather, a heavy rain began to fall. This proved treacherous for the company as the already dangerous Jagged Crossing was nearing unbearable.

The hobbits were almost blown away by the wind. Boromir, Aragorn, and Gandalf had to carry them to ensure they did not slip and fall far below.

"Aragorn!" Boromir shouted over the howling wind and beating rain. He carried Pip on his back, who used his cloak in an attempt to shield Boromir from the heavy downpour, "This is madness, we must stop!"

Aragorn heard the Gondorian's calls, but his eyes were ablaze with fiery determination. Those Warg calls meant bad omens for his long-time Elvish friend, and he was not to abandon him now.

"Aragorn!" Gandalf called as well, Sam huddled on his back, "Listen to Boromir, it is too treacherous to climb in this weather!"

"Aye!" Gimli was barely holding on. He was using his axe to bury it into the rock with every step as an assurance he would not slip away. He was a Dwarf, he was not to be carried, but he was growing weary with each footfall, "We must rest, lad! Should we continue, we risk our own fates!"

Aragorn turned to face the straggling group. His hair whipped around his face from the stormy winds and one could barely hear his voice over the thunder, "Legolas faces these Orcs and Wargs alone! We cannot leave him to die!"

Frodo and Merry, whom were wrapped around Aragorn's back, popped their heads out.

"I am sure the Orcs even find it futile to climb in this weather!" Frodo responded desperately.

"Please, Aragorn!" Merry hung on for dear life, "We are no use to Legolas dead!"

Aragorn shook his head, clearing himself of his crippling anger that had clouded his judgement so. He looked at the company again. Boromir's paleness was noticeable in the dark sky, and he knew that the added weight of Pip, though little, was still a hinderance to him due to his weakened state. Gimli did not want to show his weariness, but he too had been climbing for long hours. His Dwarvish body was not meant for such heights, and blisters formed on his axe hand from his constant swinging in the rock. Gandalf was looking at Aragorn earnestly, begging with his eyes that he may rest for the sake of the remainder of the Fellowship. After all, as Merry had said, what use were they to Legolas if they were dead themselves.

Aragorn felt shame rise in his chest for neglecting the majority of the Fellowship's members.

"Of course," Aragorn bowed his head, "we shall rest."

A sigh of relief left everyone's lips as they found a nearby cave for them to retreat to. The company ran towards their temporary shelter, trying their best to shield themselves from the pounding rain as lightning crackled and struck the mountain top.

Aragorn was worried that Legolas was up there alone, defenseless against the Orcs. Yet, he had to admit that Merry was right when he said that no living being would dare climb in this hour. For now, it seemed all of them might be safe in some weather-induced stalemate.

Gimli fell straight to sleep, his snores echoing through their small shelter. Boromir lay against the far cave wall, panting. Sam and Frodo were at his side, trying to treat his head wound. Sam had pulled out an ointment from his bag and was gingerly applying it to the injury, much to the Gondorian's thanks.

Merry and Pip were attempting to start a small fire, but the twigs and leaves were too soggy to catch a spark. Gandalf and Aragorn stood at the cave's entrance. Aragorn was dripping water, but he stared at the horizon before him. Other than the black clouds, dark mist, and heavy rain, the landscape was unrecognizable.

"He is alone, Gandalf," Aragorn bowed his head, "he could be dead."

"And so could we," Gandalf spoke softly, "Legolas is a strong warrior, he can manage."

"Yes, but if he is injured-"

"Best not to think of it," the wizard advised, "you need your rest, as do we all. I fear tomorrow we will encounter these most hideous beasts that have been pursuing our missing companion."

"I agree."

"Come, I believe Pip and Merry are starting a fire. Regain your strength."

Aragorn reluctantly followed the wizard farther into the cave to prepare for tomorrow's events.

Meanwhile, the company did not notice the lone Orc hiding just beyond the mouth of their cave entrance. It smiled to itself menacingly, " _Friends of that cursed elf, I see! They do not know that we are so near to discovering the Mirkwood Prince's location! I must alert my brethren, we shall slaughter them all!_

It scurried off, up the mountain to alert the remainder of the pack.

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	9. Chapter 9

**Thank you, my readers, for your supportive comments and love towards this story! On to the next chapter!**

Aragorn insisted on remaining on watch as the remainder of the company rested beside a pitiful fire in their small cave. They all huddled together for warmth, as Aragorn sat just beyond the mouth of the cave. He was not tired, he was itching to continue their climb. Legolas was up there alone.

The raindrops fell harder, soon developing into icy pieces of hail. Gandalf, Boromir, and the remainder of the Fellowship was right when they insisted they seek shelter. Though Aragorn was adamant on finding his friend, he knew that no soul could survive such weather while climbing the Jagged Crossing.

A scuff outside made Aragorn alert. He sat upright rigidly, his hand on his sword tightening with attention.

After a few seconds of just hearing the pounding rain, the sound resumed. Aragorn's heart soared with wishful thinking, as his thoughts rain wild with emotion.

"Legolas?" he called out to the rain.

There was no reply.

Aragorn slowly approached the entrance, calling again, "Legolas? Are you there? Speak to me."

A light groan was carried by the wind. Aragorn's eyes widened in urgent worry, as he charged out into the downpour.

"Legolas!" he shouted, turning in all directions wildly, "Legolas! Where are you? Show yourself!"

He turned towards the cave, and was face to face with beings that were not his Elf friend. Four creatures of Mordor closed in, Orcs of the scouting pack who tricked Aragorn into exposing himself and his company's location.

" _You fool!"_ one Orc smiled with rotten, yellow teeth, " _Prepare to meet your death!"_

The Orc jumpde towards Aragorn, weapon at the ready. Aragorn was just able to dodge the blade at the last second. He fell to the rocky floor as the rain dripped down all around them. His clothes were soaking, the wind was forceful, and the rain was blinding him.

He held his sword up to defend himself as the four Orcs surrounded him.

" _A Ranger!"_ another Orc snarled, " _You will meet a most unsavory end from my blade!"_

Aragorn's sword was still held before him, trying to keep the approaching Orcs at bay, "Stay back!" he shouted, "Do not come any closer!"

" _There is no use, Ranger, you, your Elf, and the rest of your company will perish!"_

All four Orcs leapt at Aragorn.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o

Legolas' eyes opened to see water dripping from the rocky arc of the cave's entrance. The rain had stopped. The grey clouds were lighter in color and the heavy winds had died down. The sun started poke out into the sky, casting its glowing rays across the valley.

The Elf sat upright, swallowing his pain. He must have been unconscious for hours, yet it could have been days or minutes and he would not have known.

The Orcs had not found him, or else he would already have been slaughtered.

Legolas examined the wound upon his abdomen. Thankfully, his hastily applied wrapping had stemmed the flow of blood, but the wound was still open and raw. It was vulernable to infection and needed healing properties as soon as possible, though he did not know when that time would come. The wound on his arm was in a similar condition.

Legolas knew that remaining in this cave would only increase his chances of entrappment, and all of his rational thoughts were urging him to flee. Yet, his corporeal needs were resisting these thoughts. When he attempted to stand, his vision grew hazy and he felt weak and dizzy.

The injuries were taking their toll, and his immortal body was considerably weakened due to his untreated state.

"You must continue, Legolas," he muttered to himself, "You will die if you remain."

He took a few deep breaths, trying to focus his energy on his further venture. Legolas gripped his bow in his hand, a trickle of bright red blood running down his skin. He breathed heavily, enduring the pain, then he climbed out of his hiding. His blue eyes scanned the horizon first, looking for any sign of an Orc or Warg. None seemed to be near, this was an open opportunity he could not pass up.

He dashed out of the cave and towards the nearest boulder. He sprinted towards it and came to an unsteady stop behind it as cover. He hissed in pain as the movements proved rather excruciating.

Legolas was anxiously aware of the silence. No Warg howls, no Orc shouts, not even the sound of thunder. He had been pursued for so long that these tranquil sounds alarmed him. He stayed there for a moment longer, when he heard movement approaching. The Elf stiffened.

" _Mirkwood Prince!"_ came the cry of an Orc, its throaty growl unpleasant to the ears, " _You are surrounded, it is futile to run further! You are trapped!"_

Legolas felt his survival instincts start to take hold as his body's adrenaline gave him added strength.

He ground his teeth and called back, "You foolish creature! You think I am that naive to submit to your false claims? I challenge your lie!"

" _Very well!"_ the Orc laughed, " _You are correct, you are not surrounded! You have slaughtered too many of my brethren and our steeds to do so,"_ there was extra malice in its voice, " _but we have something far more precious to you!"_

Now, it was Legolas' turn to laugh, "What could that possibly be?"

"Legolas, run away from here! Quickly!"

" _Quiet, wizard!"_

The Elf stiffened, true fear taking hold of him. That was Gandalf's voice. His heart pounded as he realized the Orcs had captured the wise, old wizard. When Gandalf was captured, that meant the remainder of the company should follow….

"Let him go!" Merry shouted, "Pip, it's alright! Don't hurt him!"

"Release the halflings!" Boromir's angry voice sounded, "They are of no threat to you!"

"Mr. Frodo!" Sam shouted, "Are you there!?"

"I'm here, Sam! Don't struggle, they will hurt you!"

"Legolas!" Gimli's voice called to him, "Do as Gandalf says! Run away from here, save yourself!"

Legolas felt his heart in his throat. His fists clenched the rocky surface of the boulder, his eyes wide unsuredly. Those were most definitely the voices of his company, they had followed him, and now they were in danger because of his actions.

One voice did not call out.

"Aragorn!" Legolas shouted back, "Where is Aragorn!?"

"He is here, lad!" Gimli responded hastily, "Unconscious, but alive!"

" _Enough!"_ the Orc shouted, " _Show yourself and surrender, Elf! Or your company is doomed!"_

"They will kill us either way!" Boromir snarled to the Orc, "Flee, Legolas!"

"I will not!" He growled back, "I cannot leave you all!"

" _Then show yourself! You will throw your bow aside, archer, and approach cautiously! Our steeds are hungry for your Elf flesh!"_

Legolas knew quick thinking was necessary, he knew he running from this place was wise to save himself, but he could not. The Fellowship had followed him, to find him, and he had put them in more danger than before.

With a defeated sigh, Legolas slowly stood.

"NO!" Gimli shouted, eyes wide, "Do not be a fool, Legolas!"

Legolas' blue eyes met Gandalf's who looked once sorrowfully at him, then to the floor.

His friends were surrounded by a dozen Orcs. The beasts' weapons were pointed at their huddle, ready to strike. Aragorn was being poorly supported by two Orcs as their unconscious prisoner.

"Please….," Merry shook his head.

The Orcs smiled at him hungrily and hatefully.

" _That's it,"_ one laughed, " _throw your bow aside."_

Legolas complied. He tossed his beloved weapon to the floor beside him, ready to accept his death.

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	10. Chapter 10

**The action is concluding! As the story begins to wind down, thank you all for being a part of it! Enjoy!**

" _Slowly, now,"_ the Orc barked, " _so we may enjoy your death!"_

Legolas clenched his fists in anger, but complied. The lives of the company hung in the balance, he had to do as instructed. He was still protected by the boulder, standing behind it. His head and shoulders poked from behind it, and from there he was able to see the company.

An Orc broke away from the pack and stormed to Legolas' bow lying on the rocky gravel. With a hideous scream of glee, it stomped on his precious weapon and destroyed it.

Legolas turned away, feeling his heart flare with rage at the sacrilege.

" _Step out from behind that infernal boulder."_

"Do not, Legolas!" Gimli shouted, "Stay where- _oof!_ "

Gimli doubled over as the fist of an Orc plunged into his stomach. He gasped for air, reeling from the sudden pain.

Legolas' eyes widened and he spoke urgently, "Do not hurt him!"

" _Then do as told!"_ the Orc growled, " _Or we take off his head next!"_

Gimli was sputtering and huffing, but he managed to stand upright again after a few moments.

Legolas sighed and felt weary and weak. He staggered slightly, his heart pounding as he placed his hand on the boulder as guidance. The Elf slowly walked out from behind the shelter of the boulder and in full vulnerability of the Orcs and their weapons.

Frodo's eyes widened upon seeing the Elf, "Legolas! You are injured!"

The Mirkwood Prince had almost forgotten about his wounds, but he looked down at his abdomen to see that his bindings from earlier were coming loose. His tunic was stained with red.

"Release us this instant!" Gandalf bellowed, "Can you not see he will die should we not help him!"

Legolas stood tall, attempting to maintain his graceful composure, but knew that Gandalf's words heeded truth. He would die if he did not treat his wounds. The wizard could not act without his staff, which was quickly confiscated by the Orcs when they were captured.

Boromir struggled against the grip of his captors, "If the Elf dies, then I swear upon my the grave of my mother that the forces of the Kingdom of Gondor will pursue you until the ends of Middle Earth and tear you limb from limb!"

The Orc laughed menacingly, " _We do not fear death! The Elf, however, deserves it! He will be good meat for our Wargs, and when word is sent to King Thranduil of Mirkwood that his Prince is dead, we will consume his territory for Mordor!"_

At this point, the Orcs were not focused on Pip and Merry and their exchange of glances that issued a silent conversation. While the creatures of Mordor were growling and snarling, the hobbits had devised a plan.

They realized that Legolas needed immediate help, as he was injured and weaponless, and that their unintimidating appearance would create the perfect distraction for the Orcs.

Pip reared his leg back and kicked the nearest Orc so hard, a grueling yell emanated from the surprised beast.

"Now!" Merry shouted.

At this, Frodo and Sam took action too. They charged the nearest Orcs surrounding them with defiant yells and kicked and tackled them to the ground. The moment the remainder of the company saw the half-lings take courageous action, they all followed. Boromir reared his skull back and head-butted the Orc behind him. He kicked out and his boot collided with another. Gimli's tough armor provided the perfect battering ram as he knocked Orcs right and left. The company was fighting with what they could, including throwing sharp stones, blinding the enemy with dirt, kicking out with their legs, and doing everything they could to avoid the sharp weapons and blows of the Orcs.

Gimli was not as lucky, as the blade of an Orc cut his thigh. He crouched with a yell.

"Gimli!" Legolas shouted, enraged. He sprinted forward with a graceful leap and took down the Orc towering over the Dwarf. The Son of Gloin looked up gratefully, only for a moment, then resumed the fight as though his injury was nonexistent.

The Fellowship was fighting bravely upon the peak of the Jagged Crossing. The Orc numbers were dwindling, the Wargs not near as Legolas had managed to pick most of them off and the rest were unable to make the climb. The company formed a circle, back to back, fighting, kicking, and sparring with the enemies who snarled and spit at them.

" _ENOUGH!"_

An Orc shouted so loud that the skirmish came to an immediate halt. Both Fellowship and Orcs stopped and looked at the source of the powerful call.

The leading Orc was holding a half-conscious Aragorn by his hair, his head lolling against his chest. A blade was pressed against his throat, digging lightly into his skin.

"No!" Frodo shouted, eyes wide in fear.

"Release him this instant!" Gandalf bellowed.

" _One more step and I slit his throat!"_ it snarled.

None of the Fellowship dared move.

" _Your precious leader will be dead before his body reaches the floor,"_ the Orc laughed, " _Now, it is high time you and your pathetic company burn-"_

 _THUNK!_

The Orc's hideous speech ended abruptly. Its wide, yellow eyes looked down at its chest. A hastily made, wooden arrow stuck straight from his heart.

It choked and gagged for a moment, then fell to the floor dead.

All eyes turned to Legolas, who had managed to gather the broken pieces of his bow and release his final arrow to kill the leading Orc and free Aragorn.

"Now," Legolas said sternly, finally. He was addressing the remainder of the Orcs, "I advise the rest of you beasts flee, or you will share similar fates with that of your dead leader."

The few Orcs that remained went scattering down the mountain in all directions, dropping their weapons and screaming ugly cries as they scurried off down the treacherous path of the Jagged Crossing.

Legolas, however, did not allow this. Though his words had heeded warning, the Elf bounded atop a tall boulder and pulled six more arrows from his scuffed quill. With a steely, unfeeling expression, the Mirkwood Prince fired all arrows and killed every last one of the Orc pack who had chased him for days.

He lithely jumped down from the boulder, but staggered upon landing. A painful groan escaped his lips, as he held himself up against the boulder's surface for support.

Now that he was free, his adrenaline and survival instincts were fading. His body needed rest and healing.

"Legolas?" Gimli's hazy voice reached his ears. His blue eyes blinked, but his vision was spotty, "You alright, lad?"  
"Aragorn!" Boromir and Sam bounded to the Ranger's side. Gimli and Gandalf crowded Legolas, who slowly slumped against the boulder. His breathing was quick and uneven, and he held his bleeding side weakly.

"Quickly now!" Gandalf instructed as darkness began to creep up around his vision, "Grab his legs, we must bring him down the mountain!"

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	11. Chapter 11

**Here we go, Legolas' road to recovery! Enjoy the chapter (I may have added some of my own Elvish lore lol) but hope everyone likes the read! Thanks for the continued support!**

Legolas felt himself swim in and out of consciousness.

He recognized a strong grip holding him upright, his arms wrapped around the shoulder of a man. His blue eyes opened just enough to see that he was being supporting by Boromir the Gondorian. The man was huffing and puffing as they climbed down the long, dangerous path of the Jagged Crossing.

Up ahead, he saw the halflings and Gimli trying to create a safer path for Aragorn and Gandalf. The Ranger was conscious, but Gandalf stood near him in case his injuries caused a slip.

"Boromir…," Legolas groaned.

"It's alright," the man panted from the tiring climb, "we will get you help, Legolas, do not fear…"

The next time he awoke, Legolas was lying flat on his back. His Elvish senses could feel the air was fuller and the wind was less prominent. That meant they had reached the base of the mountain and were level with normal grounds. He tilted his head to the side and saw that he was resting on rocky gravel. The sharp stones dug into his back, but that was the least of his pain.

He closed his eyes tightly, trying to swallow the discomfort from his arm and abdomen. He recited a few Elvish meditative chants in his mind, hoping to bring a calming peace to his body, yet he was unsuccessful.

He could hear the distant voices of the remainder of the company, but not well enough to understand their words.

The Elf felt a cloth under his head, one of the Fellowship must have put it there to make him more comfortable.

 _Come, Legolas, you must stand._

The Elf was unaccustomed to the weakness of his body. He did not know the limitations of his body in this exhausted state. Legolas put a protective hand upon his abdomen and sat upright.

"Legolas!" this time it was Aragorn's voice who called to him worriedly.

The Ranger came bounding to his side, followed by Gimli and Boromir.

"Aragorn," the Elf said with a slightly shaking voice, "You are alright."

"Yes, but you are not," The Ranger's bruised features reflected worry, "You must rest."

"He's right, laddy," Gimli warned, "Though Elves are immortal, you've suffered a serious wound."

"We must continue," Legolas shook his head and stood shakily, "We must go on-"

As soon as he stood, his legs buckled and he fell to his knees.

"Legolas!" Aragorn was at his side, supporting him, Boromir close by.

The Elf began to cough violently. His whole form shuddered as his body was descending into even worse condition. He coughed up bright red blood.

Legolas' hand came away slick with it. His blue eyes were wide with fear, similar to Boromir, Aragorn, and Gimli.

"Aragorn…" Boromir whispered in a frightened voice, "What...what is happening?"

"I do not know," Aragorn gulped.

"We've got to help him!" Gimli shouted, "Quick! Where is Gandalf with the healing herbs!?"

"He and the halflings are still searching for the correct herbs for the remedy!" Boromir responded urgently, "Only he can help him now, we are too far from any village or Elvish kingdom to find help!"

Legolas choked out a few haggard words, "Aragorn….the forest…."

"What did he say?" Gimli said, panicked, "What forest!?"

"Hurry, grab his legs!" Aragorn instructed, "We need to get him to the trees!"

"Why?!" Boromir shouted, confused.

"That is his natural home, his natural element! In ancient Elvish healing proverbs, it was hypothesized that the immortal beings could gather strength from the forest elements! Let us move, quickly!"

Aragorn and Boromir supported the fading Legolas as they sprinted towards a patch of lush, green trees some distance away.

Gimli offered to go search for Gandalf and the hobbits who headed East in search of their herbs.

The moment a panting Boromir and Aragorn crossed the tree line, the effects of the forest environment surrounding the Elf was almost immediate. A slight color returned to his ashen grey complexion, and his erratic breathing calmed slightly. The men gently lay the Elf on the soft, cool grass. He seemed to be more at peace and less in pain surrounded by the natural elements.

"Gandalf should not be far," Aragorn tried to catch his breath.

"What can we do to help him while we wait?" Boromir asked as he stared down at the injured Elf.

Aragorn knelt by his friend's side and observed the hastily applied bindings Legolas attempted to stem the flow of blood with.

"We can clean the wound," Aragorn sighed.

"I hear a stream running," Boromir nodded, "I will get water. Unwrap the bindings."

The Gondorian went running into the trees to fetch fresh water. Meanwhile, Aragorn stared at his dying friend's pale face and hollow eyes. The injury must have been a few days old, without proper care. Any normal human would be dead, but thankfully Legolas' resilience and immortal abilities was able to slightly delay the effects.

"Do not worry, my friend," Aragorn whispered to him, "All will be well."

As Boromir came trudging back to their location with a soaking waterskin, Aragorn had unbound the wrappings around Legolas' wound. The injury on his arm looked deep, but not as dangerously life-threatening as that on his abdomen.

Aragorn wetted a clean cloth and began to wipe the dirt and dry blood from around the wound on his forearm. Even in his unconscious state, Legolas winced in pain.

Aragorn looked at Boromir, "Hold him."

The Gondorian nodded hastily and held the Elf's shoulders down as Aragorn tried to clean the wound as gingerly as he could. When he had finished with the forearm, Legolas' breathing was heavy and uneven. Even that had taken its toll on his form.

"We are only hurting him further," Boromir said darkly, "We must do something!"

"Leave it to me," came a relieving voice from the trees. The men turned to see Gandalf approaching, the hobbits and Gimli behind him. The hobbits were carrying herbs and leaves for the healing remedy Gandalf was to make.

The wizard crushed and mashed the herbs together into a bright yellow healing paste. The others watched and offered their help, but they knew that they could not do anymore than hope Gandalf's remedy worked.

When the wizard had finished, he instructed Boromir and Aragorn to secure Legolas, so he move less and avoid further injury. Boromir once again held his shoulders down, while Aragorn grabbed his legs. He ordered Sam to grab a wet cloth and hold it against his forehead, which the hobbit did so quickly. Next, he told Pip and Merry to create a fire which they completed in a few short minutes.

First, Gandalf thanked Aragorn for cleaning the arm wound as thoroughly as he could. Next, he trotted to the fire and held the paste over the flame to harden it slightly. Next, he went to Legolas' side. He was mumbling an incantation under his breath, eyes closed, then he descended upon the Elf's injuries.

The wizard looked at Boromir and Aragorn in turn, "Be sure you secure him. This paste will sting upon application."

They nodded nervously and tightened their grips.

He carefully applied the paste to Legolas' arm. Immediately, the Elf stiffened.

"Hold him," Gandalf warned again.

He continued, slathering the healing paste all along the deep cut. The bright yellow mixture completely covered the wound. Legolas, however, was wincing from the pain even in his unconscious state. Boromir and Aragorn were doing their best to keep him secure as to not interrupt Gandalf. It truly was a sorrowful sight, as none wanted to see their Elvish companion in even more pain, but it was necessary to his survival.

Frodo was there to give Gandalf his herbs, Pippin and Merry were stoking the fire, Sam was holding the cloth against the Elf's forehead, and Gimli had to turn away.

Once Gandalf had finished applying the remedy to his arm, he had to move to the major injury on his abdomen. The wizard peeled away the bindings and began to apply it to the wound.

At this, Legolas groaned painfully.

Gandalf paused for a moment, allowing the Elf's pain to recede before continuing again.

Boromir's breaths were heavy as he held down the struggling Legolas. He felt his heart wrenching, as Gandalf's application of the paste seemed to last hours.

Sam held the cloth against Legolas' forehead, but it seemed to do no good. Pip and Merry put out the fire and helped Frodo in giving Gandalf his supplies as the wizard finished spreading the stinging paste over the wound.

Gimli's fists were clenched as he stood by a nearby tree, unable to look.

The wizard finally pulled his hand away seeing that the paste was fully applied, "I will recite a healing incantation, and that is all my skills will allow for now."

"But will he heal?" Aragorn pressed.

"It is not up to me," Gandalf hung his head slightly, "Only Legolas himself can determine that."

"The Elf Prince is strong," Boromir tried to convince them all with a lighter tone, "He will make it."

"I agree," Frodo nodded, "We cannot remain in doubt."

Aragorn sighed, "Gandalf, continue."

The wizard held his hands over the bright yellow paste and began to mutter an old spell under his breath. The paste seemed to glow iridescently, strengthening as Gandalf continued with his string of words. After a few moments, the glow died as the wizard completed his spell.

"That is all for now," he concluded, "Legolas will need time for the medicine to heal him. He will need sleep and care. Come, we must all rest. It has been a trying few days."

Sam and Frodo helped Aragorn wrap new dressings around the wounds. They covered the Elf with warm cloths to shield him from the night's cold. The remainder of the group set up their camp. They had no food and no energy to hunt. Pip and Merry returned from the bushes with some berries and nuts for the company. They accepted the food gratefully. All was quiet, none too eager to share words.

They would now just have to wait and see if their friend Legolas would survive.

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	12. Chapter 12

**Here we go, final chapter! Thank you to everyone for sticking with and supporting this story! I hope you all enjoyed it! Check out my other stories if you want, and I will definitely write more LOTR in the future! Thanks again! ~themodernteen**

It was a grueling few days. Legolas normally remained on watch for the nights, but now the Fellowship all took their turns guarding the Elf.

The Mirkwood Prince remained still and quiet during this time. He was so eerily still that the others had to periodically check to see if the Elf was breathing. Thankfully, he was, though heavily. His breaths escaped his body in pants and his features reflected pain. Though, he remained in his deep sleep as Gandalf assured them all that the remedy he applied was meant to keep the user in an unconscious state to allow the body to mend more efficiently.  
Gandalf never gave any of them indication that the remedy was actually working.

Gimli was on watch this night. They had remained in their spot in the lush forest. Boromir and he were able to hunt and provide dinner for the remainder of the Fellowship. The hobbits would prepare a tasty meal, but one that would fall unpleasant on all of their tongues knowing their friend still remained in a critical condition.

Now, the rest were all asleep. The dying embers of the fire glowed a deep orange color. Gimli sighed as he sat beside Legolas' side. Though Dwarves had no particular inclination for Elves, this one did. Dare he admit that he actually….enjoyed Legolas' company. He seemed entranced by everything his blue eyes rested upon, quick with a bow, agile and compassionate, deadly and respectable.

Gimli rested a light hand on Legolas' shoulder, "It'll be alright, laddy, just hang in there."

His quiet words echoed throughout the camp. The Dwarf sighed, seeing Legolas wince ever so often as the enchanted remedy continued to do its work.

"Legolas…," Gimli sighed, "I-I….I do not know what to say. You must not die - you cannot. You are far too useful in this company to do so, and I seem to find you rather...pleasant to be around. Though, just mildly."

Gimli looked to make sure the rest were sleeping, not listening.

"I cannot lie when I say it would upset me to see you go, lad," the Dwarf continued, "so I beg of you...stay strong. Do not give up, keep fighting."

Gimli was silent then on. It wasn't until a few hours later that Aragorn awoke for his watch. He relieved the Dwarf who trudged to his bedroll and rested.

Aragorn examined his shivering friend. The Ranger pressed a hand against his forehead and found it came away hot. He was trembling from fever, not cold. Legolas wrapped the cloths around his friend tighter, in an attempt to break the fever sooner.

"Rest easy, my friend," Aragorn whispered, placing a light hand on the Elf's chest to ease his troubled form. He was stiff, pale, and flinching. Aragorn felt his heart wrench watching his companion's suffering.

The next morning, Gandalf deemed it time to unwrap the bindings. He examined Legolas beforehand and noted, rather worriedly, that his condition did not seem to improve. Then again, it was not deteriorating either. Legolas seemed to be hovering at the brink, still trapped in a painful unconsciousness from Gandalf's remedy.

"Well?" Boromir pressed as Gandalf examined the wounds.

Gandalf was wordless.

"He's getting worse, isn't he…?" Merry gulped.

"Gandalf, that cannot be true!" Pip's eyes widened.

"Is it?" Gimli felt his heart race, "Is he not healing?"

"I…," Gandalf sighed, "I do not know. His condition seems the same."

"It has been days!" Aragorn argued, "Gandalf, if he has not healed by now then there is little hope!"

"Not entirely," Sam tried to sound uplifting, "Perhaps his body needs just a bit more time."

"Sam is right," Frodo nodded, "We cannot give up on Legolas now, just as we did not in our search for him. He suffered these wounds days ago, his body may be taking longer to heal because of that."

Boromir agreed, "We must listen to Frodo and Sam, we cannot treat Legolas as though he is already dead. Our faith must remain strong. The Elf is capable, he can endure it. Please, all hope is not lost."

Pip and Merry nodded, concurring with the Gondorian's words.

"Aye," Gimli gripped his axe tightly, "You are right, Boromir. Legolas is strong, hope is still with us."

"Gandalf," Aragorn pleaded, "Is there not anything more you can do for him?"

All eyes turned to the Elf, who was coughing, lips an ashen grey along with the remainder of his skin.

"He is near death," Gandalf sighed, "but I agree that we cannot lose our faith. I will try one more spell I know, one very ancient. It may work, though its result is not guaranteed."

"Try it," Gimli urged, "try anything."

"Quickly now," Gandalf spoke, "I need fresh water and two herbs: Echinacea and Witch's Hazel."

The hobbits and Gimli scurried off, searching for the supplies the wizard needed. Gandalf crouched a few feet away, preparing his spell. Aragorn and Boromir stood by one another, pacing.

"Aragorn," Boromir spoke to him in a low voice, "this may not work."

"You said it yourself, Boromir," Aragorn shook his head, "we cannot lose hope."

"Yet, what if-"

Aragorn held up a hand, "Only uplifting thoughts, Boromir, Legolas needs our faith. Let us help the others."

Gandalf gathered the herbs and water that the hobbits had picked for him. He poured the water from the waterskin into a hollow walnut shell. It was quite large, the ripe season making the shell almost the size of Aragorn's palm. Next, Gandalf placed the herbs inside the water and held it over the fire to boil and to absorb the flavor.

"A tea?" Sam furrowed his brows, "Will that work?"

"Let us hope," Gandalf spoke grimly.

Once the water had turned a shade of golden brown from the herbs, Gandalf carefully walked to Legolas' side. Aragorn helped the unconscious Legolas sit upright, as Gandalf brought the edge of the walnut shell to his lips.

The Elf drank two full gulps of Gandalf's tea.

"Quickly," Gandalf instructed Aragorn, "Lay him down again and stand back."

Aragorn obliged and stood a few paces away. The rest of the company watched in anxious patience as nothing occurred for a few moments.

"Well?" Boromir pressed, "Did it work-?"

At that moment, Legolas' eyes shot open. He gasped awake, coughing violently as he sat upright quickly.

"Legolas!" Aragorn started, running to him.

"Stay back!" Gandalf bellowed.

The Ranger stopped, looking at the wizard with wide, fearful eyes.

The Elf was on his hands and knees, coughing and sputtering as Gandalf began to chant a powerful spell in a low, deep voice.

He bellowed a bone-chilling encantation in ancient Sindarin that not even Aragorn recognized. The wizard's eyes were focused on Legolas, as his hands tightly gripped his staff. He stood over the injured Elf, who was still trembling from the violent hacking that gripped his weakened form.

Gandalf's staff hovered just above Legolas' head, whose hands dug into the dirt.

"Gandalf!" Boromir shouted, "What is this madness?!"

Gandalf paid no mind, continuing his powerful Sindarin spell.

Finally, as the wizard's voice reached a loud bellow, he touched the edge of his staff against Legolas' forehead.

Immediately, the Elf froze. His skin went white, blue eyes wide. His coughing stopped, as did his breath as his back arched.

"Legolas!" Gimli shouted.

A bright light from Gandalf's staff seemed to surround both Elf and wizard, as the remainder of the Fellowship shielded their eyes. After a few moments of blindness, they blinked and turned back to the spectacle. At this, Gandalf was resting against a tree trunk, panting with exhaustion at the powerful encantation that drained his energy.

The rest turned to Legolas, who was frozen in a crouch. He was panting, but not coughing.

All was silent as the Elf slowly sat upright. His cautious hands lifted the fabric of his tunic as he looked at his wound. The bleeding mess of an injury that deeply cut his abdomen had green veins stretching around it. Then, the wound seemed to grow smaller and smaller as these mysterious green vessels seemed to mend the skin of his injury. After a few moments, the wound was just a small scratch. Quickly, Legolas pulled the fabric of his forearm up and found that the injury on his arm was also a mild cut.

"By the light of my eyes," Gimli gasped, "does my vision deceive me?"

"It does not," Frodo looked, mouth agape in awe, "Legolas, you are healed."

Upon hearing those words, Aragorn stood and rushed to his friends side. He enveloped him in an embrace, finally glad to see his Elvish friend right once again.

"Legolas," Aragorn smiled, "thank the heavens."

He smiled kindly, blue eyes warm, "It is good to see you clearly, my friend," the Elf was still reeling from the magical remedy, "Gandalf...what have you administered?"

"An ancient Sindarin spell," the wizard panted, "one that has not been spoked in ages. Thankfully, it worked."

"If it did not?" Boromir asked quietly.

"The spell is very risky," Gandalf explained, "it hovers the line of life and death. It takes the proper power and experience to issue it correctly. I had never cast it before, I have only ever seen it done once by the great Lady Galadriel."

"Gandalf," Legolas crouched to one knee, bowing his head, "My life is spared because of you. I owe you a great debt, as I do to you all."

That night, the Fellowship feasted nicely. Legolas was instructed by Gandalf to rest as the spell would take days to settle. His body would seem fine at first, but it would drain his energy, increase his exhaustion, and strengthen his hungry and thirst.

The hobbits prepared a delightful meal, one that Legolas was happy to watch his friends enjoy. He feasted upon berries and his own Elvish food. Gimli was in high spirits, recounting adventurous stories of his past.

The Elf excused himself for a moment, as the others laughed and enjoyed Gimli's tales. Legolas walked quietly to the treeline, searching his thoughts. He heard a pace follow him from behind, and recognized the footsteps as Boromir.

"Ah," Legolas came to a stop by the nearby stream, "Boromir."

"Legolas," he dipped his head, "It is good to see you mended."

"Thank you for all of your assistance and kind words," Legolas said sincerely, "though my body was unconscious, my mind was awake."

The Gondorian blushed slightly, but he received the compliment, "I did not get the opporunity to thank you for protecting me the night we were attacked. You saved my life by securing me in the branches of that tree, and I am eternally grateful. All of Gondor thanks you."

The Elf smiled, "I do not need the thanks of Gondor, though it is appreciated," he nodded, "I am glad to have a worthy companion as you with us on this expedition."

"As am I in return," Boromir dipped his head, "you need proper rest, as Gandalf advised."

"We all do," he began to walk towards the company's location, "our quest is just beginning."

"Of course," Boromir walked beside him, "We must bring the ring to Mordor, to be destroyed."

Legolas looked at him, "To be destroyed. Not to be taken to Gondor."

"Yes," Boromir nodded, "to be destroyed."

"Very well," Legolas stopped and placed a hand on the Gondorian's shoulder, "let our journey begin."

 **THE END**

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